


The Story of How Percival Graves Became Accustomed to Sleeping on the Couch

by secondsodomites



Series: Millard the Kitten [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, He can be a brat, Just a cute family hanging out tbh, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Millard is a cockblock, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Poor Credence just wants sex, Sassy Credence, he loves the stupid cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:03:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondsodomites/pseuds/secondsodomites
Summary: There's dancing, Credence being a little shit, Newt being antisocial, cinnamon rolls and Percival putting Millard's safety above Credence's... needs.





	The Story of How Percival Graves Became Accustomed to Sleeping on the Couch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series now, because I love the stupid universe I've created tbh. There will definitely be more of these idiots and their jackass cat.

His lips quirk up on the left side, like they always do.

His laugh sounds like he’s breathless with happiness, as it always has. 

His eyes are still deep brown, but when the light hits him, they’re like honey.

His posture is still horrendous, but Percival knows it’s not from cowering in fear or lack of self-confidence.

Credence is finally happy, so carefree.

Percival watches him link arms with Queenie as they dance, ‘round and ‘round in circles until he jumps towards his next victim. Tina snorts, shaking her head. “No way, kid. I wouldn’t be caught dead dancing!” she declares stubbornly. Credence raises an eyebrow. “Newt told me you two do the horizontal tango all the time,” he says innocently. Percival bursts out laughing at the elder Goldstein’s blush. “Newt!” she squeaks, glaring at the freckled man playing with Millard in a corner. He looks up, red-faced. “Oh, don’t blame him, Teeny. Somethin’ tells me Credence dragged it out of him!” Queenie calls knowingly from the kitchen, where she and Kowalski are probably rummaging through Percival’s nearly bare cabinets in search for something to whip up.

Credence just shrugs. “I was curious.” 

Little minx, Percival thinks. 

The younger man extends his arm to Tina again, wiggling his fingers. “Care to dance, Ms. Goldstein?” he grins, knowing he just oozes charm. Tina scowls, grabbing his hand and standing up. Percival watches in content amusement as Credence snaps his fingers to change the music, and curls an arm around Tina’s waist. “Slow music? Really?” she complains. Credence just laughs. “Thought it’d be a nice break. I hear dancing in the dark can become pretty fast paced.” Percival can hear Kowalski’s laughter booming from the kitchen as Tina growls, snatching away from him. “You wouldn’t know!” she accuses, twirling back his way. He takes her hand and spins her, throwing Percival a mischievous glance. “I would, actually.” he says, dipping her. She rolls her eyes and steps back as the song fades. 

“Gross. I never want to think about you two having sex.” she mumbles, crinkling her nose as Credence worms his way into Percival’s lap. “Why not? Percival thinks about it all the time,” he says smugly as Percival grips his hips. “I do not,” he laughs, placing a kiss on top of messy black locks. “No, maybe not. You’re much more concerned with sneaking out of bed every single night to feed Millard, even when we could be doing other things.” he says, giving him a pointed look. Percival just kisses the tip of his nose. “It’s not my fault she gets hungry!” he protests. When Kowalski steps into the living room with two batches of fresh cinnamon rolls, Credence dives for them, slight argument completely forgotten in lieu of snatching two for himself. Percival rolls his eyes. “Look where she gets it from.” he deadpans. 

Credence gives him the best glare he can with his cheeks full of cinnamon and icing.

 

**

Later, after everyone’s left, Credence has him pinned to the floor and is practically mauling him. 

He can’t say he minds.

Love bites are scattered across his collarbone and his hair is no longer held in place by his pomade. Credence has a bit of a thing for running his fingers through it and tugging it. Again, Percival has no qualms about it. The younger man is panting above him, a pretty flush decorating his cheeks. Percival shifts, getting the upper hand and flipping them so that Credence is writhing on the floor. 

Jesus, how did he even get so lucky?

“So excitable,” he murmurs instead of gushing like an idiot, placing kisses down the column of his throat, unbuttoning the collared shirt that’s only a nuisance at the moment. He follows the pattern until he reaches his belt. Credence’s hips cant up and he whimpers. “Percival,” he breathes. Smirking, he catches Credence’s gaze and runs his tongue over the clothed outline of his cock. “Don’t tease me, it’s been two whole weeks!” the younger man whines, tugging at Percival’s hair. 

“When did you get so bratty, love?” he chuckles, sliding the belt through the loops of his pants and throwing it aside carelessly. Of course, he could just snap his fingers and get right to it, but Credence getting frustrated is cute. He’s just sliding underwear down pretty slim legs when he hears a distressed meow. He sits up immediately. “I think I just hit the cat with the belt.” he says, ignoring Credence’s snarl. 

So maybe he loves the cat as much as he does Credence. It’s not a crime, he reasons with himself as he’s cuddling Millard on the couch later. Sleeping out here is totally worth making sure his little buddy wasn’t hurt.


End file.
